


Tale as old as Time

by Paranormal_ink_96



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Darcy takes advantage of this buisness, Multi, Same For Relationships, Shifters, Soulmarks, Soulmates, a buisness of reading soulmarks, besides other than hints they're not going to be showing up for a while, but i won't tag them at the moment, eventually all of the avengers are going to come up, i have a whole mythos planned for the shifters, yep shapeshifters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 07:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paranormal_ink_96/pseuds/Paranormal_ink_96
Summary: All I wanted to do was write a great fanfiction, not live it, but I guess the old adage is true, be careful what you wish for. Rated T because Cherry has a bit of a mouth





	Tale as old as Time

Look, I’m just going to say right off the bat it was stupid. I know the rules when it comes to wishes. More importantly I know the biggest rule when it comes to wishes: Make sure your wording is clear! But I’d already done every single silly little superstitious wish thing there is to do before, wishing on stars, wishing on clocks when all the numbers are the same, good luck spells on tumblr, and not a single one came true. Yeah, okay, maybe I shouldn’t have wished during the witching hour on a super blue moon, but I’m not a witch and it shouldn’t have come true… Those two facts are not mutually exclusive, but they had to be said. 

 

Still, my wish came true, sort of. I wished what I wished every other time, that I could write a great fanfiction, the kind that has hundreds of followers and almost double the amount of reviews, a feat I’d never managed to accomplish. I went to bed that night, early morning, as Jenny Smith and woke up Lou-Harper “Cherry” Potts, boy was that a trip, and since we’re already talking about it, let’s start with the whole waking up as someone new thing. 

 

I’d always been an aggressively medium sleeper, not so light that a floorboard creak would wake me up, not so heavy that voices wouldn’t, so when someone entered my room and started talking I was awake. My whole body went tense and I really hoped that the heavy blanket that covered me hid that fact.

 

I lived with a roommate, but the voice definitely didn’t belong to him, which meant there was a stranger in my room. My heart pounded widely in my chest, or I assumed that’s what it was doing since all I felt was pain in my chest and nausea climbing its way up past that from my stomach to my throat. My mouth was so dry, but that could have been from fear or the fact I drool in my sleep, enough to coat my entire arm. It was disgusting I know, but I can’t help it. 

 

“Come on Lynsay! Get up! We’re going to be late for school!” Well, that certainly didn’t sound like someone come to kill me. Then again, it could have been a ploy. And who the hell was Lynsay?

 

There were muffled groans from somewhere else in the room, and then, “why isn’t Harper up yet?” 

 

Footsteps neared me, and my chest tightened nearly to the point where I couldn’t breathe. A sudden hand on my arm shook me. Even through the blanket it felt like my skin was crawling. I was sensitive as hell and didn’t like being touched. You would think waking up in a new body skin sensitivity wouldn’t be an issue, but apparently not wanting to be touched was something Jenny Smith and Lou-Harper Pots had in common. Ugh! What sane parent named their child Lou-Harper? Hell, what kind of dumbass writer names their oc Lou-Harper? Okay, so I might be a dumbass, but I swear to you I did not choose the name Lou-Harper. The writing gods must just really hate me. Shut up I know that doesn’t sound right, but that was how I said it, so leave me alone. 

 

“Cherry, you alive?” The first voice and I was assuming the owner of the hand asked. She almost sounded worried. At the time I was still confused on who the hell was Harper, who the hell was Cherry, and why the hell some stranger was touching me. And yes I use the Oxford Comma, it was how I was taught, get over it. 

 

I pushed the blanket away from my head, thankfully moving enough the hand was removed. “I’m not sure.” I grumbled, hating how stupid I sounded. And what if she hadn’t been talking to me, which she probably hadn’t been. I mean I’d never been called Cherry in my life. In fact, I hated Cherries, still do in fact. Cherries suck. And I know I shouldn’t be dissing cherries since I hate when people diss tomatoes, but I couldn’t help it. Still, if she wasn’t talking to me I looked twice as stupid. 

 

I was met with a very disapproving brown eyes glare belonging to a striking red head. “Not funny Lou. I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one.” 

 

“No, that’s Pepper.” The voice from the other side of the room spoke up. I finally took a second to look around the room. It was your average sized bedroom with white painted walls covered in all sorts of posters, from animes to boy bands. There were two beds shoved against opposite walls, one had a small red headed girl with striking blue eyes in it, the other had me. The window was on my side, streaming in early morning the sun is just starting to rise light. I looked around for a clock, but the only one was a small alarm clock on a tall wood dresser against the far wall, closer to the red head in the bed than me. The numbers weren’t blearily, they clearly read 6:42. I reached up towards my face and didn’t feel anything. Holy shit! I didn’t need my glasses, had I been bitten by a radioactive spider in the night? Actually, that’s a stupid reference, but please no, that’s a horrifying thought. 

 

“Come on Harper. Aren’t you the one always complaining about being late?” 

 

“I’ll be ready in two minutes.” I snapped, more out of habit than anything else. And, I mean, under normal circumstances that would have been true, but these were not normal in any way shape or form. I pushed the blanket down further, so I could move. That was when I noticed the pajamas. They were a while flannel set, a button down, or was it button up, the one where the buttons go all the way down to the bottom is a button down right? Regardless it was a white top with buttons all the way down and pants with cute little bears all over both articles of clothing. I was dressed like a child whose mother still picked out her clothes, which of course Lou-Harper was, but I didn’t know that yet. I scowled and went in search of real clothes. 

 

As Jenny Smith my wardrobe was comprised mostly of black tees with some kind of graphic on them, jeans, the cool mix-and-match ankle socks, and either converses or combat boots. As Lou-Harper Potts on the other hand, well at the time she had what I would classify as Sunday dresses, some skirts, only a couple pairs of pants, no graphic tees what so ever, flats to go with the dresses, and a pair of beat up sneakers. I settled for jeans, a cream-colored turtleneck I was not happy about, and the sneakers. I turned my back on the red heads to change, not feeling comfortable in the least, but I didn’t think they would leave if I asked them to. I wasn’t the least bit happy when all I found at the bottom of Lou-Harper’s sock and underwear drawer was balled up holey crew cut socks. I stopped wearing crew cut before I hit double digits. Still, I put them on because I would not wear shoes without socks, I might have been just this side of a hillbilly, but I wasn’t a barbarian. 

 

Once the blue eyed red head and I were dressed for the day the three of us left the room and walked, in an almost single file line, to the kitchen where a red headed woman was dishing out breakfast foods to three brunette guys. 

 

Where were all these red heads coming from? Not that I was complaining or anything, I love red heads, they’re awesome, although the ones I love tend to be fiction. Still, my morning was strange enough without the sudden influx of red heads. “Where’s Pepper?” The brown eyes red head asked. 

 

“She already left for school.” The red headed woman answered. “Now remember, Lynsay has her appointment, so Ryan you’ll have to walk Lou-Harper home.” I tried not to cringe at the name, luckily the sharp glare from the brown eyed red head was a nice cover reason. 

 

I won’t bore you with details of a breakfast I didn’t eat, which earned me many strange looks, and I’ll just say we all left the house for the different places we had to be. And if I never have to write the name Lou-Harper again, it will be too soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Marvel, that should be obvious, Cherry/Lou-Harper/Jenny she's all mine


End file.
